_To Mr. ――――._
_Lisbon, April 12, 1755._
_My dear Friend_,
AFTER the news already sent you, I thought our _Lisbon_ correspondence
would entirely have been put a stop to; for upon returning to my
lodgings, (as weary I believe as others that had been running from
church to church all day) word was sent me, that our ship would
certainly sail the next morning. This news, I own, was not altogether
agreeable to me, because I wanted to see the conclusion of the _Lent_
solemnities. However, I made ready; and having dispatched my private
affairs the over-night, was conducted very early in the morning, by my
kind host, down to _Bellem_, where the ship lay. We parted. The wind
promised to be fair; but dying away, I very eagerly went ashore once
more. But how was the scene changed! Before, all used to be noise and
hurry;――now, all was hushed and shut up in the most awful and profound
silence. No clock or bell had been heard since yesterday noon, and
scarce a person was to be seen in the street all the way to _Lisbon_.
About two in the afternoon we got to the place, where (I had heard
some days ago) an extraordinary scene was to be exhibited. Can you
guess what it was?――Perhaps not. Why then I will tell you. “It was the
crucifixion of the Son of GOD, represented partly by dumb images, and
partly by living persons, in a large church belonging to the convent of
_St. De Beato_.” Several thousands crouded into it; some of whom, as I
was told, had been waiting there from even six in the morning.――Through
the kind interposition and assistance of a protestant or two, I was not
only admitted into the church, but was very commodiously situated to
view the whole performance. We had not waited long before the curtain
was drawn up. Immediately, upon a high scaffold hung in the front
with black bays, and behind with silk purple damask laced with gold,
was exhibited to our view an image of the LORD JESUS at full length,
crowned with thorns, and nailed on a cross between two figures of like
dimensions, representing the two thieves. At a little distance on the
right hand, was placed an image of the virgin _Mary_, in plain long
ruffles, and a kind of widow-weeds. Her veil was purple silk, and she
had a wire glory round her head.――At the foot of the cross lay, in a
mournful pensive posture, a living man, dressed in woman’s cloaths,
who personated _Mary Magdalen_; and not far off stood a young man, in
imitation of the beloved disciple.――He was dressed in a loose green
silk vesture, and bob-wig.――His eyes were fixed on the cross, and his
two hands a little extended. On each side, near the front of the stage,
stood two centinels in buff, with formidable caps and long beards; and
directly in the front stood another yet more formidable, with a large
target in his hand. We may suppose him to be the _Roman_ centurion.
To compleat the scene, from behind the purple hangings came out about
twenty little purple-vested winged boys, two by two, each bearing
a lighted wax-taper in his hand, and a crimson and gold cap on his
head.――At their entrance upon the stage, they gently bowed their heads
to the spectators, then kneeled and made obeisance, first to the image
on the cross, and then to that of the virgin _Mary_.――When risen, they
bowed to each other, and then took their respective places over-against
one another, on steps assigned for them at the front of the stage.
Opposite to this, at a few yards distance, stood a black friar in a
pulpit hung in mourning. For a while he paused, and then, breaking
silence, gradually lifted up his voice ’till it was extended to a
pretty high pitch, though I think scarce high enough for so large an
auditory. After he had proceeded in his discourse about a quarter of
an hour, a confused noise was heard near the front great door; upon
turning my head, I saw four long-bearded men, two of which carried
a ladder on their shoulders, and after them followed two more with
large gilt dishes in their hands, full of linen, spices, &c. These (as
I imagined) were the representatives of _Nicodemus_ and _Joseph_ of
_Arimathea_. On a signal given from the pulpit, they advanced towards
the steps of the scaffold. But upon their very first attempting to
mount it, at the watchful centurion’s nod, the observant soldiers made
a pass at them, and presented the points of their javelins directly to
their breasts. They are repulsed. Upon this a letter from _Pilate_ is
produced. The centurion reads it, shakes his head, and with looks that
bespoke a forced compliance, beckons to the centinels to withdraw their
arms. Leave being thus obtained, they ascend; and having paid their
homage, by kneeling first to the image on the cross, and then to
the virgin _Mary_, they retired to the back of the stage. Still the
preacher continued declaiming, or rather (as was said) explaining
the mournful scene. _Magdalen_ persists in wringing her hands, and
variously expressing her personated sorrow; whilst _John_ (seemingly
regardless of all besides) stood gazing on the crucified figure. By
this time it was near three o’clock, and therefore proper for the scene
to begin to close. The ladders are ascended, the superscription and
crown of thorns taken off, long white rollers put round the arms of the
image, and then the nails knocked out which fastened the hands and feet.
Here _Mary Magdalen_ looks most languishing, and _John_, if possible,
stands more thunder-struck than before.――The orator lifts up his voice,
and almost all the hearers expressed concern by weeping, beating their
breasts, and smiting their cheeks.――At length the body is gently let
down. _Magdalen_ eyes it, and, gradually rising, receives the feet
into her wide-spread handkerchief; whilst _John_ (who hitherto stood
motionless like a statue) as the body came nearer the ground, with an
eagerness that bespoke the intense affection of a sympathizing friend,
runs towards the cross, seizes the upper part of it into his clasping
arms, and, with his disguised fellow-mourner, helps to bear it away.
And here the play should end, was I not afraid you would be angry with
me, if I did not give you an account of the last act, by telling you
what became of the corpse after it was taken down. Great preparations
were made for its interment. It was wrapped in linen and spices, &c.
and being laid upon a bier richly hung, was afterwards carried round
the church-yard in grand procession. The image of the virgin _Mary_ was
chief mourner, and _John_ and _Magdalen_, with a whole troop of friars
with wax-tapers in their hands, followed after. Determined to see the
whole, I waited its return, and in about a quarter of an hour the corps
was brought in, and deposited in an open sepulchre prepared for the
purpose; but not before a priest, accompanied by several of the same
order in splendid vestments, had perfumed it with incense, sung to and
kneeled before it. _John_ and _Magdalen_ attended the obsequies; but
the image of the virgin _Mary_ was carried away and placed upon the
front of the stage, in order to be kissed, adored, and worshipped by
the people.――This I saw them do with the utmost eagerness and reverence.
And thus ended this _Good Friday_’s tragi-comical, superstitious,
idolatrous farce. A farce, which whilst I saw, as well as now whilst I
am describing it, excited in me an high indignation.――Surely, thought
I, whilst attending on such a scene of mock devotion, if ever, now
is the dear LORD JESUS crucified afresh; and I could then, and even
now, think of no other plea for the poor beguiled devotees, than that
which suffering innocence put up himself for his enemies, when actually
hanging upon the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what
they do.” There was but one thing wanting to raise one’s resentment
to the highest pitch, and that was, for one of the soldiers to have
pierced the side of the image upon the cross. This in all probability
you have heard hath actually been done in other places, and with a
little more art, might, I think, have been performed here. Doubtless it
would have afforded the preacher as good, if not a better opportunity
of working upon the passions of his auditory, than the taking down the
superscription and crown of thorns, and wiping the head with a blooded
cloth, and afterwards exposing it to the view of the people; all which
I saw done before the body was let down.――But alas! my dear friend, how
mean is that eloquence, and how entirely destitute of the demonstration
of the spirit, and of a divine power, must that oratory necessarily
be, that stands in need of such a train of superstitious pageantry
to render it impressive!――Think you, my dear friend, that the apostle
_Paul_ used or needed any such artifices to excite the passions of the
people of _Galatia_, amongst whom, as he himself informs us, “JESUS
CHRIST was crucified, and evidently set forth?”――But thus it is, and
thus it will be, when simplicity and spirituality are banished from our
religious offices, and artifice and idolatry seated in their room.――I
am well aware that the _Romanists_ deny the charge of idolatry; but
after having seen what I have seen this day, as well as at sundry other
times since my arrival here, I cannot help thinking but a person must
be capable of making more than metaphysical distinctions, and deal in
very abstract ideas indeed, fairly to evade the charge.――If weighed
in the balance of the sanctuary, I am positive the scale must turn
on the protestant side.――But such a balance these poor people are not
permitted to make use of! Doth not your heart bleed for them? Mine
doth I am sure, and I believe would do so more and more, was I to stay
longer, and see what they call their _Hallelujah_, and grand devotions
on _Easter-day_.――But that scene is denied me.――The wind is fair, and I
must away.――Follow me with your prayers, and believe me to be, my dear
friend,
Yours most affectionately, in our common Redeemer,
_G. W._